


Family

by TheIceQueen



Series: Sam's blue book [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Concerned Dean, Dehydration, Food Poisoning, Light Angst, Mother Hen Dean, Needles, Pain, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic, Vomiting, Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 20:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11654340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: When Sam get's hit with a bad case of food poisoning Dean doesn't need a book of names to tell him where to go. He knows who can help.





	Family

Sometimes you just need to go home.

Some might say that the Winchesters don’t have a home but on a good day the brothers will say that they have just enough. They are skilled enough to always find a place to stay, but when more than a roof is needed there is always Bobby's or the Roadhouse.

-

The brothers have been staying in lots of small motels the past few weeks, working case after case. Warewolfs, a stray vampire and quite a few angry spirits. Wasn’t there a poltergeist somewhere in there too or was it last month? Dean isn’t quite sure. One thing he knows though, is that today there will be no hunting. Sam is in the bathroom puking. The All-American-Breakfast, Dean had brought in, must be all out of him by now, and Dean starts to wonder if Sam is coming out of there anytime soon or if he’s planning to stay in there all day. Dean sends Bobby a message asking him to contact another hunter about the crossroad demon.

“You okay in there?”

Dean hear Sam coughing and moving around

“Sam?”

The door opens. “M fine. Must have eaten something that was of.”

“It’s all that salad. It isn’t good for you.”

Sam staggers to the bed and all but collapses into it.

“What were you saying about the demon, before I...?”

“Before you sprinted to stick your head in the toilet? Yeah Sam, the case is off.”

“I’m fine, Dean. C’mon, it’s just a bug.”

Sam sits up, swaying as he does so. Dean quickly moves to his side and slowly lays him back down. It doesn’t take much effort to move the big man. He’s weaker than Dean expected and he moves like his stomach hurts.

“Already called Bobby. You need sleep.”

Sam looks at Dean with pleading eyes. Dean know all too well that none of them likes to be defeated or held back and sickness is rarely an excuse, but when Sam can’t even sit up straight he’s not going on a hunt with him.

“We’ll get the next one. Now relax, and I’ll go get some white sandwiches or something. You think you’ll be able to keep that down?”

Sam shoots up from the bed and barely makes it to the bathroom in time for round two.

Dean doesn’t even have time to react and have to settle with waiting by the door for Sam to indicate that he’s done and then support him on his way back in bed.

“Okay, Coke it is… and more toothpaste.”

As Sam lays down on the bed Dean wonders if it’s the right move to leave his brother alone in this state. He looks terrible and Dean don’t know if he’ll be able to make it to the bathroom in time if he’d have to go again. Hell, he doesn’t even seem able to stand right now. Dean wets a towel and places it so gently on Sam’s forehead, as though he doesn’t want Sam to really notice.

“I’m not The English Patient, you know.”

The comment makes Dean chuckle, but Sam don’t know, because his eyes are already closed. He is sleeping before Dean leaves the room.

-

Dean contemplates going for another drive down the road, to give Sam some more time to sleep. Then again, Sam could probably sleep on a construction site, even when he’s not sick. He goes in without making a sound and places the bottles in the little fridge. It’s nice when they get a room with a small kitchen installed. It saves time and money and perhaps most important it keeps the beers cold. Dean falls back into the empty bed and just stares at the sealing for a second. It’s actually good with a day off.

“Dean? That’s you?”

Dean turns and look at Sam. He’s rolled up in a ball and in the vague light forcing its way in between the blinds he can see the long brown hair sticking to a face glistening with sweat.

“Thought you were sleeping.”

“Not for a while. I need to throw up, but there’s no more in me.”

“Do you want to drink some?”

Dean is already by the fridge. Sam takes the bottle and drinks a bit.

“De..”

Sam has to put his hand for his mouth to stop the coke from spraying all over the room… and Dean. Dean quickly hands him the trashcan and he empties himself in it, it’s only coke and stomach-acid coming up and it’s quickly all up, but Sam keeps convulsing over the bucket for a minute, even after nothing more comes out.

I the meanwhile Dean is wetting the towel with fresh cold water. When Sam is still, he lays him on his back again, sits on the side of the bed and brushes the towel over his temple, moving it down his cheek, washing the sweat of his brothers face and neck. No humorous comments from Sam this time, he’s still panting after the workout. Dean goes back and wets it once more and then lays it on Sam’s forehead.

Sam closes his eyes when the cold eases him a bit and it almost looks like he’s sleeping. Dean notice how pale he is, the dark patches under his eyes and the small quivers he makes when touched, by hand, towel or even air. Sam had had food poisoning before. Dean sometimes wonders why he doesn’t get them more often, with his raw-food-fetish. Seafood and salat, in the places where they usually stay is not always the best way to go. The conversation from last night comes back into his mind. Dean had looked wrong, or maybe too long at Sam’s shrimp-salad and Sam had attacked the burger in front of Dean, with saying that he was going to die of an embolism before any creature would get either of them. He knows it isn’t the healthy way of living, but at least all his food is cooked.

Dean looks at Sam again. Wondering if he’s in pain. Sam is a grown man now. In a lot of ways, he knows more about life than himself, real life anyway. Hunting Dean knows, but the rest… He’d always been the outsider, the dangerous guy the girls liked to play with but not bring home. Sam is the opposite of him. What Dean have learned from the time Sam was a baby; was how to take care of him and that a brother doesn’t forget. As he is sitting there he’s feeling the exact same responsibility as he did when their farter left to go hunt when they were kids. _Take care of your brother._ Dean had always done that and probably always will. It is coded into his DNA by now.

“I’m thirsty.”

Dean is brought back immediately.

“Coke or water?”

“Water.”

Dean is happy that Sam don’t want to try the soda again, he’s worried if the next thing to come up is blood. He holds Sam’s head up a bit while he drinks.

“Hold it, Sam. No more.”

Sam looks defeated by the refusal of taking a second sip, but he lays down and relax. Dean had been holding most of the weight of Sam’s head, still Sam must gather himself after the exhausting effort. Ten seconds goes by and Sam seems okay.

“Want some more?”

Sam nods and Dean holds the glass to his lips, but Sam changes direction and heads for the side of the bed, and spits up the water from before into the trashcan standing on the floor.

Deans stomach sinks. He can’t even hold in water!? Still sitting on the bed, he holds Sam by his shoulders to keep him from falling to the floor. He moves a palm in big circular motions across his younger brothers back to try and calm him down.

“Easy now.”

Laying on his side, with his head over the edge of the mattress, Sam is struggling to even his breathing back to normal.

“All done?”

Sam nods.

“Good, now breathe. Just lay still and breathe. Okay.”

The older brother holds Sam in place for another moment, rubbing his back, and letting him catch his breath. Sam starts to sit up, and Dean helps him to ease back into lying on his back.

“That’s it! We are going.”

“What?! Where?”

Sam looks so confused, that for a moment it crosses Dean’s mind, that Sam don’t know where they are.

“The Roadhouse. It’s only two hours.”

Dean is already up and packing.

“We don’t need that. It’ll blow over. What can they do anyway?”

Dean continues with moving around, gathering everything they’d spread over the room.

“Ellen has medicine. We don’t. You need fluid and I know she has IV’s. It’s not the first time a… well, hurt, hunter has stumbled through her door.”

Sam sits up. Slowly. Dean looks at him, wondering if he should go over and make him lay down again, but they will have to get moving soon anyway.

“I’m not hurt, Dean. I’ve just eaten bad shrimps.”

“So, you admit it’s _your_ food that’s dangerous?”

If Sam don’t want to go he can’t make him, but he’ll do what he can. This is not just a normal stomach-bug, and if Sam can’t hold down water they might be facing dehydration soon. In fact, the paleness of his brother suggests they’re already there. Dean makes one last comment before he picks up the duffle bags and heads for the door.

“Besides, Ellen has Jo. That makes her a mom. Isn’t it in the job description to know what to do… always?”

There is no more argument from Sam, except the one his stomach makes when he sees the car. His middle contracts and as there is no more to eject he folds, and even supported by Dean, he ends up on his knees. After a struggle to get the larger man on his feet, Dean helps him into the passenger seat and speeds out of the parking lot.

-

The drive had been horrible every bump had made Sam throw up, mostly though, nothing came up. Once in a while a little water or some repulsive smelling fluid came up. When it was the latter Sam seemed to be hurting but he didn’t say anything. Dean had suggested that he might have been more comfortable laying in the back, but Sam wanted to sit so he could see the road, which had made sense at the time, but he had been hunched over the trashcan, and barely looked up, the whole time. Sam is sweating more now; his hair is dripping and the t-shirt don’t have a dry spot on it. As they are driving up to the backdoor of the Roadhouse, Dean is grateful that Sam is still sitting upright.

“Stay here. I’ll get someone.”

Dean demands as he is getting out of the car. Sam does not seem to even notice his brother talking to him.

A few seconds later Ellen comes running towards the Impala with Dean behind her, actually struggling to catch up. Dean is pleased that no one but Ellen is here, but now they have to get the big man in the front seat into the back room, and that will become quite the struggle as he’s not sure Sam’s conscious anymore. Ellen opens the passenger door and Sam falls into her arms.

“Sam!”

Dean rushes to help her.

“I’m here big brother. I’m really thirsty, though.”

Sam smiles but doesn’t open his eyes and even though he’s able to help a bit by carrying some of his own weight, he still has them closed when Ellen and Dean eases him on to the bed.

Dean hadn’t had time to tell Ellen much before she ran out the door. He remembers saying the words; sick, puking, dehydrated and maybe unconscious, but he’s not sure. It may not have sounded so bad, but by the reaction Ellen had she must know that Dean isn’t one to come asking for help before it’s more than he can handle. He loves his brother but unnecessary fussing is not one of Deans qualities. Now, she looks at Dean though, as if she’s waiting for further explanation.

“It’s food poisoning. I haven’t seen it like this before. He’s been throwing up all night and can’t even hold down water.”

Dean feels like he should be able to handle this, know what to do. Standing in front of Ellen, he feels like a preschooler who hasn’t done his homework. She always makes him feel that way, even though he knows she’s always there to help them. Kinda like their dad. Maybe that’s just what family’s like.

“So, he hadn’t gotten any fluid in how long?”

Dean does the math quickly.

“20 hours.”

Ellen looks at Sam. The sweating, semi-unconscious man is laying on his back, knees bent and tilted to the side, his head turned the same way. The look on his face and both arms folded over his stomach indicates he’s in pain, but he doesn’t move.

“Tell me again; which one of you is it who has a problem with needles?”

How did she know that? Did Sam tell her? The sheer thought of something under his skin makes Dean visibly cringe. Now he really is happy it wasn’t him who ate that salad.

“Not Sam.”

The words come out almost angry, so Ellen leaves it at that, but she seems relieved. Dean gets it. Even though Sam is weakened none of them want to take up a fight with the big guy. Ellen leaves the room and comes back with a plastic tub filled with supplies. After she empties it all, but a towel, onto a small table near Sam, she hands Dean the tub and nods towards the bathroom.

When Dean comes back with the cold water he pulls up a chair to the end of the bed and sits down. Ellen is packing out small things from their sterile plastic bags. It all looks so serious and almost seems absurd to Dean, but then he looks at Sam. He needs some kind of help that coke and white bread can’t provide.

“Sam? Sweetie, you there?”

“Mmhm.”

Dean sighs of relief. At least he’s not passed out.

“We need to check your temperature and get some fluid in you. Can I put an IV in your hand?”

“Okay.”

He almost can’t get the word said as his body convulses once again to throw up, but nothing comes. He still hasn’t opened his eyes. Maybe he has to cut that sense out of the calculation to not over inform his system.

Ellen puts the thermometer in his mouth and takes one of his hand away from his stomach. Dean makes sure he’s looking at Sam’s face and not at the hand… or the needle. He can see the little red line on thermometer grow second for second, but he’s not surprised. Sam’s face and neck is glistening with sweat and on his forehead, is actual drops forming and running into the long hair. Dean picks up the towel, not wringing it. Sam is wet anyway by now, he needs to cool down. The water sends shivers through the big body, but Dean continues to wash his brother gently over the face, neck and collarbones. Sam shifts a bit and moans, maybe from the cold water, maybe from the needle entering his hand. Dean doesn’t know but he notices his brothers breathing eases slightly as he cools down. Ellen takes the thermometer and Dean dares to look at the IV line. She has put it up in a lamp stand by the food end of the bed. The needle is completely covered by some kind of white tape and Dean can’t see it at all.

“101. Not too bad. There’s nothing we can do but wait now. He has to fight it of by himself.”

Ellen stands up and turns towards the front room. Dean looks at Sam. He’s not satisfied by that amount of information.

“How long? What if he gets worse?”

“I don’t think he will. If he starts peeing blood we need a real doctor, though.”

Dean smiles but when he sees the look at Ellen’s face he realizes that wasn’t a joke. Can a bad shrimp really do that to an otherwise healthy young man? He dips the towel once more this time wringing it and moves to the chair beside the bed, where Ellen sat before.

“It can take a few days, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. Want a beer?”

Dean looks at the woman in the door. She doesn’t seem all that worried, but he had always had problems reading her. He nods and takes the beer as she brings it to him.

-

The beer is still standing untouched when Ellen checks in on the boys three hours later.

“Dean?”

He jolts from the chair. His back hurts from the hunched position he had been sleeping in, half of his face is red from pressing against his forearm and his right eye doesn’t open all the way.

“Don’t you want to sleep on a mattress?”

“What time is it?”

Dean can hear people in the bar, but it doesn’t sound like the normal crowd for a Friday night.

“It’s only 6pm, but you’re already sleeping, honey.”

Dean straightens his back and looks at Sam. He seems the same but now he looks like he’s sleeping, instead of just shutting the world out. Ellen walks over and picks up the thermometer on the way.

“You awake, Sam.”

No answer.

Dean takes the thermometer from her hand and tries.

“Sammy?”

A slight hum comes from the bed in response.

“Can you wake up just for a sec? We need to check your fewer again.”

Sam turns his head up a bit as if he is looking at his brother, but his eyes are still closed. Dean places the thermometer in his brother’s clammy hand and makes sure Sam has a hold of it before he lets go. Sam’s eyes flicker and slowly opens. He looks at his older brother, who slightly pushes the hand with the thermometer and Sam puts it in his mouth. He closes his eyes again and relaxes into the pillow. They wait in silence, then Dean takes it.

“100.5. That’s okay.”

He looks at Ellen, as if to seek her approval. She smiles and leaves the room. She comes back with a brown paper bag and places it on the table next to a recliner in the other corner.

“Eat, Dean.”

Dean looks at the bag.

“Is that a bottle of whiskey?”

The greasy stain on the bottom and the smell of salt suggests a meal of the more solid kind though.

“…and if you insist on sitting up sleeping, please do it here.”

She looks at the brown leather recliner.

“I don’t want to end up calling a doctor because you develop a case of lumbago.”

She leaves the room before there’s room for more discussion. Dean looks at his little brother, who’s already fast asleep again. It must be hard work throwing up when there is nothing more to throw up. He decides that he might as well go sit in a comfy chair and eat something. The bag contains a burger with everything and fries to go along, Dean almost manages to eat it all before he’s fast asleep in the chair.

-

Something moving around is disturbing Dean’s almost comfortable sleep. When he realizes it must be Sam who’s waking up, he’s awake. Sam is tossing in the bed and can’t seem to get comfortable.

“Sam, You okay?”

Dean is by the bed in an instant.

“I think so. Can we turn up the heat though?”

Dean doesn’t thing it cold in the room, more so the opposite. He feels his brother’s forehead. Still clammy and hot but it doesn’t seem like the fewer has gone up. Dean notice the wet pillow and the sheaths, of course Sam is cold, he’s lying in a wet bed. Dean is almost standing when he notices the neatly folded sheaths on top of a new pillow next to the bed. There is another next to it contains a few extra blankets and has a note on top. _FOR GOD’S SAKE, SLEEP ON THIS_. Dean smiles for a sec and wonders if Bobby is sitting in the bar at the moment. They really know how to pick their friends.

Maneuvering Sam onto the chair next to the bed, changing the bedding and getting Sam into the bed again takes some time, both because Sam is still convulsing with every move, and because he has to do it in the dark. Sam can’t keep his eyes open long enough to sit up straight with the bright light turned on. As Sam is back in bed Dean makes his own bed on the floor and while he makes sure Sam is asleep, he eats the rest of the burger. The fries are not good cold, so he leaves them and lays down to sleep.

-

When Dean wakes up from the sun hitting his face. Ellen is by the window.

“I thought you guys could use some fresh air. It smells like an all-boys dorm room in here.”

Dean is annoyed by the light but then he feels the cold air filling the room. He sits up, inspecting to see Sam turning away from the light, but his brother is sitting and looks like he’s been like that for a while.

“How are you?”

Sam blinks his eyes in the light and takes status.

“Better. Still feel like I’m going to puke any moment, but sleeping was good. That doesn’t help though.”

He turns his head to the brown greasy bag on the table, Dean can smell the salty fries from here.

“Sorry.”

He smiles at his brother, happy to see him feeling better, and heads to take the bag away. Ellen beats him to it, and take the wet sheaths under the other arm.

“You two get cleaned up and I’ll take care of this.”

Dean would have helped with the cleaning, but the words sounds like and order, and when he takes status of his own state he understands why Ellen prefer to do it herself. He shares a look with Sam and is reassured that he’ll be fine while he takes a shower.

When Dean returns to the room Sam is sitting on a chair next to the dresser where there is a bowl of water and some towels. Ellen and Sam must have agreed that a shower would have been too big of an effort for his brother. His hair was dry now and he had on a new t-shirt. He was still in his boxers though.

Sam is hunched over holding his stomach with both hands, the IV line connected to a new bag on the lamp-stand. He doesn’t seem to even notice Dean entering.

“Sammy?”

His head just shook, making the long brown hair sway a bit. Dean went to his side.

“You okay?”

“Not sure… Maybe I’m just hungry.”

The words make him throw up a bit of stomach acid into his mouth, and he’s almost falling of the chair, that’s if Dean hadn’t been there to catch him.

“Wanna lay down?”

Sam moves to try and stand and Dean takes it as a yes. He helps his still weak brother to the bed and makes sure he’s comfortable.

“I know you must be hungry, but maybe we should hold off on that just a bit?”

“Sure.”

He turns his head away from the light and closes his eyes. Dean draw shot the curtains and leaves the room to find Ellen.

-

Ellen opens a beer and places it on the bar. Dean sits down and takes a sip.

“How is he now? He was sitting in the bed when I came in, had he been like that all night, you think?”

“No, I chanced the sheaths around 2am, he slept for a while after that at least. Thanks, by the way.”

“Nothing to talk about. Just happy you sought help.”

Dean takes another sip of his beer.

They’re silent for a while. Ellen getting the bar ready again after last night and Dean drinking his beer. He’s not going to ask about Jo and what else is there to talk about? He needs the quiet too. Although he’d slept great on the blankets and pillows he had been waking up several times to listen for Sam and check if he was okay. That’s why he knows Sam had been sleeping at least till 5am.

The beer is empty and Ellen places a bottle of water in front of him. Dean doesn’t get it. It is morning and he doesn’t want another beer but he hadn’t asked for one either.

“Go see if your brother can drink some. It would be great if he could get these down too.”

She places two aspirin next to the bottle.

“It would help knock the fewer down too. By the way, the sooner he drinks, the sooner he can eat and he need the strength to recover.”

Dean takes the bottle and the pills and heads to the back room, without saying anything. He hopes Sam is asleep. Please, let him be a sleep, so he doesn’t have to do this now. Dean is sure Sam would throw up the water and get worse again. What if he starts puking blood?

He opens the door and sees Sam laying on the bed. He looks relaxed, not moving, but Dean can’t see if he’s sleeping.

“Sam?”

Sam turns his head.

“You awake?”

Dean still hopes it was just a movement in a dream, but he knows that Sam is awake. He starts walks over to the bed. Sam sits up a bit, slowly, but he makes it by himself.

“You think you can drink some water? Maybe keep these down?”

He gives Sam the pills and they share a doubtful look, then he reaches for the water and swallows them with as little water as possible. He lays down on his back slowly, as if he wants not to shake or upset anything. Dean sits on the side of the bed with the almost full bottle in his hand, and the plastic tub within reach. When five minutes have passed and nothing happens he makes sure Sam sees that the bottle is now on the nightstand right beside him and he leaves his brother to sleep some more.

During the day Sam gets able to drink more water and even change out the water with some juice, but the toast came up again and so did the salt crackers. Dean is reassured by the fact the fewer is down and Sam seems more alert. He still plans on sleeping on the floor in the same room though, just to be sure nothing goes the other way without him being there. As he gets ready for bed Ellen comes in with two more pills and a few bottles. Water, juice and root-beer. Sam sits up.

“I figured you were getting tired of water and juice by now, just don’t overdo it, we don’t know how you’ll react to fizzy drinks yet.”

“Thanks, Ellen. For everything.”

Sam looks at the IV line still in his hand. He’s on the fourth bag by now. Ellen had turned down the flow earlier but didn’t remove it, just in case.

“Let’s take that out tomorrow, if your fewer is gone, okay?”

Sam nods and swallows the pills with a bit of juice.

-

Dean wakes up by the sound of Sam throwing up again. He turns on the light at sees his brother in the same position as he was in, in the motel room. Laying crocked on the bed with the brown-hair-covered head hanging over the side and over the tub. He places himself on the side of the mattress again and once more supports his little brother so he won’t fall out.

“Okay, buddy. I’ve got you.”

He holds Sam in place and moves one hand soothing across his upper back.

“Okay. It’s all up?”

Sam nods.

“Breathe, okay.”

When Sam is breathing calmly again Dean pushes him back onto the mattress. He wonders when this will end.

“What happened?”

“Root-beer.”

Sam looks pale again, maybe it’s just from the act of throwing up, but Dean is worried that it might all be starting over.

“Do you think your fewer is up again?”

“No. It’s just my stomach.”

Dean feels Sam’s forehead and Sam lets him. He doesn’t feel warmer than before, but he is sweating from the sudden exercise. Dean finds a towel, cools it with water and wrings it almost dry. He strokes it across Sam’s forehead and take in the sight of his brother almost sleeping again.

Dean decides to sleep in the recliner so he can be ready if something else happen. It doesn’t. Sam decides against drinking again and sleeps through the night. When Ellen comes in Dean is already up and out of the shower. She sends him a disapproving, but sympathetic look when she sees the blankets in the leather chair, then she turns her attention to Sam, who is starting to wake up.

“How are you today?”

“Okay, I think.”

He pauses.

“The root-beer didn’t go down well but I think I’m better now.”

He sits up and Ellen help him with some pillows to support his back. She hands him the thermometer and picks up the plastic tub, but Dean had already cleaned it so she puts it back down and sits on the bed and waits. The fewer is gone, and she starts pulling of the tape holding the IV in place. Dean retreats to the bar and waits there till Ellen joins him.

-

The next few days are trial and error with food and drinks, but slowly Sam is able to return to a somewhat normal diet.

“Let’s just go, Dean.”

“Can you even be in a car without puking? There will be none of that in my Baby.”

“I’m okay. Besides you are going stir-crazy here. You are starting to piss Ellen of.”

Dean had felt the tension the last day or so. They were not fighting, but he knows he has the ability to get on anyone’s nerves when they’d been together for too long. Maybe they had outstayed their welcome.

Sam continued;

“She’s happy to help and she would tell us to leave if she wasn’t, we know that, but for all of our sake we need to go.”

Sam is still weak and a bit pale when they get into the Impala. Ellen comes to the passenger side window with some food for the trip.

“Stay hydrated and take it slow with new foods… and no caffeine.”

“Sure. Thanks again, for everything.”

“Hope to see you in better shape next time.”

As they drive of Dean can see Ellen in the mirror. She looks a bit relived, maybe Sam was right, but then again. Isn’t family supposed to get on your nerves when you are together too long?


End file.
